the good news is that miraz has tied her with silk scarves, and while he's been talking -- and may god help her, how does he know the things he knows? money can buy most things, but surely it can't buy everything -- she's been working at the knots.

glozelle finally gets caspian down, sitting on his back, his gun out of its holster now and pressed against the back of caspian's skull.

"caspian, caspian, caspian," miraz says, never looking away from lucy. "still alive, are you?"

"i could say the same for you," caspian says, voice muffled where glozelle has his head pushed into the concrete. "all those people who hate you. how do you manage it?"

susan gets one knot undone, shoves the scarves aside and bends over to work at her ankles.

"well, if they're all as incompetent as you, it's hardly any kind of exertion," miraz says.

"shut up," lucy snaps.

"my dear miss pevensie, you hardly in a position to dictate terms," miraz says. "is she, darling?"

prunaprisma steps out of the stairwell with a gun in her hands. this is getting ridiculous.

"caspian?" she says, and caspian squawks, "aunt pru? you and miraz got back together?"

"for the sake of the baby," prunaprisma says soothingly.

susan gets the last of the knots undone and stands up. the barrel of prunaprisma's gun wavers a little as she tries to decide whether to aim at lucy or susan.

"maybe we could try this again, miraz," she says, coming up behind him. "this time without the use of weapons, breaking and entering, or knocking me out and tying me up."

"especially that last one," lucy adds.